Malibu Motel

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Malibu Motel Page 14

by Chaunceton Bird


  My three future employees stared at me as if they were trying to solve a puzzle. Haruki placed our edamame in front of us.

  “Are you serious?” Hailey asked.

  “Yes, what’s wrong with that? Why can’t we do it? Imagine going to Zillow and being able to buy with one click. Like on Amazon.”

  “Because we’re talking about a fucking house, not a book,” Zack said.

  “Yeah, Caish, people don’t want to buy houses on the internet,” Hailey added. “Even if they wanted to, nobody has enough money to buy a house. Regular people have to get loans to buy houses, and the process of convincing a financial institution to loan you the money takes time and inspections, both of the house and of the financial position of the borrower. And all those forms you want to do away with? Those are required by law.”

  They were missing the point.

  “You guys are missing the point, there is money to be made in innovating new ways to buy and sell houses.”

  “So what’s the new way, Caish?” Matt asked.

  “Well, I don’t have all the answers, I was hoping that by bringing together experts in the industry that we’d be able to figure something out.”

  “But you do have some idea of how this all works, right?” When he said “this” Matt swirled his finger around as if he were asking whether I knew how the building’s ceiling worked.

  “Absolutely,” I said, “Hailey has decades of experience selling houses, Matt, you’re one of the best salespeople in the valley, Zack, you’re a recognized general contractor with an impressive record. I have a contact at BazookaMedia, Nettie, who is working the internet side of things. So, Hailey will manage us as a team, Matt will line up the buys and sells, and Zack will do the renovations. Then Hailey will sell the properties. All the while, Nettie will drive us online traffic and maybe make some sales just by posting the houses online. If we optimize our online presence—”

  “Wait, so how do you make money?” Hailey asked.

  “I’ll take a salary out of the company’s profits.”

  “You mean take a distributive share out of the revenue?”

  “Tomato, tomato.”

  “No, Caish, not tomato tomato. Partners in a four-person corporation do not receive a salary from company profits. They take distributive shares, and it is an expense of the corporation, not a profit.”

  “I think we’re getting lost in the weeds on this, Hailey,” I said.

  “Maybe,” Matt said, “but I think what Hailey was asking is what is your role? What do you do to earn money from Caish Enterprises?”

  “Calloway Enterprises.”

  “Yeah, Calloway Enterprises.”

  “I invest. I bring together the team, rent the office, pay for marketing.”

  “So what’s your cut?” Zack asked.

  “Well, we can talk numbers and figure out what the fairest way to structure this will be, but I was thinking since it’s my company and I am the one bearing the risk, I would own fifty percent of the company and we’d split profits fifty-fifty.”

  Hailey looked like she was losing her patience. Thank God our first rolls of sushi arrived and distracted her before she could hone in on another tiny detail of what I said. After we divvied out the sushi, Hailey just said, “No.”

  “No?” I said, “No what?”

  “No, that’s not how it works. No, that is not equitable. No, I will not stop selling houses on my own, just so that I can sell houses for you and give you some of my take.”

  Zack agreed. “Yeah, I’m with Hailey, that’s a pretty shitty deal, Caish. Without you even getting into details I can tell you’ve never run a business before, and although you may have a few good ideas, I’m making good money right now, and your vision kind of looks like a way for me to make less money and for you to earn my money.”

  Matt’s head was nodding along with Zack. When Zack finished, Matt gave me a shrug, as if to say, “Yeah, they’re right.”

  “Well you’re wrong, Zack,” I said, “I have run a business before, several businesses. And a few of them have been pretty successful.”

  “Creating an app is not a business. Neither is designing a new toothbrush and selling it online. Just because your lawyer has set up a corporation for you does not mean you’ve run a business. Do you know anything about operations management? Or the four Ps of marketing? Shit, Caish, I don’t mean to bring you down, but your pitch sounds like what a landscaper tells to a bunch of high school students looking for a summer job. We make lots of money on our own, and you aren’t presenting a way for us to make more.”

  “Look,” I said, “I’m not trying to take your money, I am trying to invest in you. Think of how much more you can accomplish with real money at your disposal.”

  Hailey almost spat her sake out. “What?” she stated. “You’re not actually patronizing us, are you?”

  “No, no, of course not. I would never do that. Why?” I said.

  “Because,” Matt said as he poured soy sauce into a little dish next to his plate, “you’re talking to us as if we have never seen a balance sheet. You’re giving us platitudes that would make the layman cringe. You have just pitched a business model that is idealistically simple and proposed that you get fifty percent of the company’s profits just for renting the office space.”

  “I said we could discuss numbers, that was just a ballpark.”

  “Caish,” Matt leaned in, “you’re not hearing me. Your grand plans are puerile. I hate to say it like that, but you don’t know the first thing about running a business, and we’d have to be crazy to drop our businesses—which are very successful, I would add—to help you make money.”

  “Yeah, Caish,” Zack added, “we’re your friends, and we’re happy to help. We’ll buy the next app you come out with or whatever, but for Christ’s sake.”

  Then it was quiet for a little while. In a regular restaurant, the bustle of the kitchen and the hum of conversation soften the blow of awkward silences, but at Surasawa, the silence was brutal. Worst of all, I could tell from their faces that they felt bad for me. Like they just kicked a puppy and now they were thinking of a way of consoling it. Hailey spoke up, “Caish, run some numbers over the weekend. Put together a business plan—do you know what a business plan is?”

  “Of course, yeah.”

  “Okay, put together a business plan, send it to us, then let’s do this again. As is, it sounds like you’ve got a few ideas janglin’ around in your noodle but haven’t thought of practicalities.” What she was really saying was, “Unless you know every single little detail of how to run a business, I won’t join you.” Which is exactly what I should have expected from somebody who went to college. I can’t remember where she went, but I know she has a degree in something, and she thinks that makes her the smartest person in the room. I expected more from her.

  “Sounds good.” Which was my way of saying, fine. I fold. Gig is up. “But I still don’t think you heard me out. And I’ve already rented the office space and paid a marketing company for a logo, a motto, and a website.”

  “You paid a place to make a motto?” Zack asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “What is it?”

  “The House You Want for the Price You Deserve.”

  “Hm.” Zack raised his eyebrows then sipped his sake.

  “Everything is ready to go,” I said, “I have done all the legwork, all you guys need to do is show up to work and make money.”

  “We wish it were that easy,” Matt said, “we wish we could help you, Caish. But next time pitch the company before paying to set anything up. Let’s just enjoy the evening. Surasawa is quite the event, let’s eat fancy sushi tonight and talk business after you’ve drafted a business plan.”

  Matt didn’t think I was going to draft a business plan. None of them did. This was their way of turning me down but making it seem as if it is my fault that the business idea failed because I was the one who didn’t draft the business plan. How hard could a business plan be t
o draft? It’s probably just a plan for the business. I merely type up the type of business it is. Easy.

  Over the next couple of days I drafted a business plan and emailed it to Matt, Hailey, and Zack. Hailey was the only one to respond. She said, “Looks good, Caish, but this isn’t a business plan. This may pass as a mission statement, but it’s not a business plan. A business plan includes an analysis of financial factors, operations plans, management layouts, marketing details, design and developments plans, etc. Also, be sure and include market strategies and a competitive analysis. Look forward to seeing it!”

  Overcomplicating things isn’t my style. Apparently it’s Hailey’s style. Wish I would have known that before buying her dinner. I called BazookaMedia and cancelled my contract. Of course there was an early termination fee.

  A million dollars is almost enough to live on, but not when your house costs two million dollars. My options were dwindling. I no longer had enough wealth to make money for me, and I couldn’t convince people to invest in my business ideas. Thank God for the California State Lottery, or Hopelessness would really be rearing its slimy head. The odds were on my side (since I had won before), and I had plenty of good karma stored up to tilt the scales of luck in my favor. Experts say that if you get lost in the wilderness, just stay put. The best course of action is to hunker down. I took the same course of action. Sure, my house costs two million dollars, but that two million dollars wasn’t due any time soon. Thanks to Mr. Valentini, that wasn’t due for thirty years. I still had more money than most people.

  Most people are in debt. Especially in neighborhoods like Spanish Hills. Most of them can hardly make payments for their child’s gymnastic lessons because they’re spread so thin. They get the biggest mortgage they can qualify for (because square footage is one of the only sure signs of status these days), then lease the best Mercedes the rest of their money can buy. It doesn’t leave much wiggle room, so as soon as little Janey needs braces the whole shtick caves in. Those people would kill to have a million in the bank. They hardly have enough to get from one day to the next. Me? I had enough to last years. Years to relax in my Spanish Hills estate while I waited for my next break. Whether that be through the lottery (which was most likely) or through a business or investing opportunity. Once again, money provided the security I needed to get through a tough time. A small rough patch paved over with golden asphalt.

  In the years that followed, I settled into a sustainable routine. The Porsche was my only car, and I was fine with it. I bought a Lotus Elise to have as a backup car in case the Porsche broke down, but for the most part I just drove the Porsche. I made most my mortgage and Lotus payments on time, bought my usual batch of lottery tickets every morning, and refrained from buying much else. Instead of sushi and lobster, I ate burgers and tacos. Instead of designer shops, I shopped at department stores. I tried to replace cocaine with Focalin, but it just wasn’t the same.

  Downgrading hurts. Even with my Spanish Hills place and my Porsche, most of the people I considered friends abandoned me like sailors swimming away from a sinking ship. I wasn’t invited to join prestigious groups, I wasn’t tapped as a potential investor for any new startups, and I wasn’t invited to house parties anymore. I still went to clubs and met new people. And I got back into dating. I even had good sex every now and then. But I was lonely.

  10

  I needed to reconnect with my son. Mark was born when I was young, and I was not in a good position to be a parent. Mark’s upbringing has been financed by me, but my ex has been the one raising him. He’s a handsome little boy with brilliantly blonde hair who likes to ride his bike. I think. It’s been a few years since I’ve seen him. Before calling my ex, I do some research on how to be a parent. I google “how to be a parent” and read an article written by Alan Bradley, MS. “When human beings first start out,” the article stated:

  we are, by nature, narcissistic, egocentric, amoral, and disloyal. Not to mention completely incompetent, gullible, and prone to unconstrained fits of violent rage. It takes an attentive, stalwart, patient parent to teach children how to be decent members of society, and this task often takes decades of diligence. Fraught with frequent failure, the difficulty leads many parents to give up and allow their young to grow up with the follies associated with children, thus leaving fully formed adults with the same immaturity and lack of development as toddlers. In past centuries, many parents turned to religion for help, relying on a fear of Hell to bridle their children. Although this is still practiced today, short-term threats are replacing religion with increased frequency (e.g. “Santa’s watching,” or “the Easter Bunny might not come if you are bad” (see Zhang Xiu Ying’s work on threatening children)). Other parents have turned to drugs like methylphenidate (or “Ritalin”). But, by far the most used tactic is increased vocal volume and threats of deprivation of...

  Yeesh. That’s enough of that. This next article looks more practical, it’s by Paul Lionetti, MS and it’s titled, “How to Be Moral Parents.” The first paragraph reads:

  The moral limits of children’s minds, although influenced by external stimuli, are ultimately set by the minds themselves. This is why, even after full development, some minds are able to sexually abuse children, carry out terrorist attacks, and torture animals. Broken minds produce perverse compulsions then fail to provide necessary limitations on behavior. Laws and punishment may dissuade those with conflicting tendencies toward anti-social behavior, but evidence suggests that no amount of detrimental consequence can prevent the lunacy of a broken mind from attempting to satisfy its insatiable hunger for grotesque, and often grisly, gratification...

  What in the world? These college interneters are making a confusing mess out of a simple topic. Oh! I must have clicked on Google Scholar. That explains the hoity-toity articles. Having navigated back to Google proper, I found more promising articles. Articles like “10 Things Every Parent Should Know,” “Why Kids Cry,” and “12 Things You Didn’t Know About Your Child—Number Two Will Blow You Away!” But even those articles were pretty worthless. Humans have been raising children for thousands of years without the help of this jargon, I’ll be fine.

  My ex answers the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, this is Caish, is Mark around?”

  “Yeah, Mark’s around.”

  “Will you give him the phone?”

  “Why?”

  “Why?”

  “Yeah, why do you want to talk to Mark?”

  “Because,” I said, “Mark is my son and I have a right to talk to him.”

  “Oh you have that right? You can call and talk to your son whenever you want?”

  “Yes. I do. So please hand the phone to Mark.”

  “Mark is busy doing homework right now, so maybe call back this weekend. I’ll let him know you called. We have your number.”

  “Don’t be like that, hand Mark the phone.”

  “Mark is busy right now.”

  “Have you forgotten who bought the house you and Mark are living in?”

  And then the line went dead. So I called back. My ex answers again. “Caish, seriously, Mark is busy, call back this weekend.”

  “Don’t hang up on me ever again. Give the phone to Mark.”

  “Okay, Caish, I am going to hang up. Try not to take it personally.”

  “I swear to God, if you—”

  My ex hangs up. Okay. Fine. My ex has apparently forgotten that I have one of Los Angeles’s best lawyers in my corner.

  “Good afternoon, thank you for calling Morely, Black, and Associates, how may I direct your call?”

  “To Gabby Rodriguez.”

  “Transferring you now, please hold...”

  (Longer than usual wait.)

  “Gabriella speaking.”

  “Gabby, this is Caish.”

  “Hi Caish, long time no talk. Another car get repossessed?”

  “No, my ex isn’t letting me talk to my son. Isn’t that against the law?”


  “I’m not a family law attorney, Caish, but I would be happy to refer you to an attorney in our family law practice group.”

  “Oh come on, didn’t you go to law school? Is it illegal or not for a parent to keep another parent from speaking to their own child? Sounds pretty illegal to me.”

  “I am unfamiliar with your circumstances, Caish. It may be illegal in some cases, in others you may be violating a restraining order and by trying to reach out you may be the one committing an illegal act.”

  “What? My ex doesn’t have a restraining order against me.” What the hell Gabby?

  “I didn’t say that,” I could hear Gabby straining to be patient with me. “I’m just using that as an example to point out that I don’t have enough information to guess, and you don’t want a guess anyway, so you should speak to somebody in our family law practice group.”

  “Gabby, are you passing the buck because I’m behind on my payments?”

  “Caish, I am not passing the buck, I am telling you that your family law issue needs a family law attorney. But, since you mention it, yes, please get current on your bill.”

  “K, fine. Thanks Gabby.” This time I hang up first.

  I want to see my son, so I am going to see my son. I packed a few outfits into a leather duffle bag and tossed it in my Porsche. On my way out of town I stopped at In-N-Out to have dinner and collect my thoughts. My ex was keeping Mark from me, and my lawyer was unwilling to help. As a parent, it’s my right to be with my son and to be involved in his life. It had been years since I’d seen him. I needed to drive to Monterey and spend quality time with Mark. The drive from Spanish Hills to Monterey takes about five hours, so I planned to drive to Pismo Beach and spend the night there, then pick Mark up from school the next day.

  The drive to Pismo was therapeutic. It was near seventy-five degrees without a breeze. Windows down, stereo off. The 101 was congested through Santa Barbara, but otherwise the freeway was clear enough to let the Porsche run at Autobahn speeds.

 

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